My hands were shaking so badly that I missed the ignition the first time.
The inside of the car was hot from sitting in the driveway, and dusty air blasted through the vents when I started the engine.
I called Oakridge Market before I reached the end of Mom’s street.
No answer.
I called again before the first traffic light.
Still nothing.
Megan had left for the store with Lily sometime around four twenty that afternoon because Mom needed a few more groceries for her birthday dinner.
I had expected them back well before six.
By the time Megan walked through the door alone, nearly two hours had passed.
I kept doing the math even though I did not want to.
Two hours was enough time for a five-year-old to get scared.
Enough time for her to walk outside looking for us.
Enough time for a stranger to notice she was alone.
